


John Wayne's Got Nothin' On You

by Sam4265



Series: Jaydick Prompts [10]
Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Western, M/M, Wild West AU, outlaw!jason, sheriff!dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 07:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9593537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam4265/pseuds/Sam4265
Summary: For the prompt: Western AU where outlaw!Jason tries to woo sherif!Dick who is at a crossroads with himself because he knows he should resist as a man of the law but also when did bandits get so charming and handsome??





	

The Red Hood was truly the bane of Dick Grayson's existence. He was loud, crude, and he practically lived to make Dick's life hell. He operated solely in Gotham, and he'd killed almost a dozen people, publicly. Personally, Dick thought his kill count was much much higher. That was all he did, though. He only killed men who deserved it, men who would be hung if they were caught anyway. There lay Dick's predicament. The Red Hood was a scoundrel, an outlaw, someone Dick should despise, but he didn't. It made him furious. No matter the kill count, Dick couldn't get that filthy handsome scoundrel out of his head.

No, wait.

Not handsome, that's ridiculous. 

Besides, it's not like Dick had ever really gotten a good look at him. He always wore a red bandanna and a red cowboy hat. Hence the name, Red Hood. No one have ever seen his face, or so the legend said. Dick had a drunk in his lock up that said different.

"So you say you've seen the Red Hood's face?" Dick asked the mess of red hair and beer breath. 

"Yup," the man slurred. "We're buds, we play poker on the weekends."

Dick stared at him. He was sitting on the bed with his head between his knees.

"What's your name, sir?" Dick asked. The man looked up. His beard was wild and wirey. There were tattoos on his arms and his eyes were bloodshot. 

"Roy Harper," the man said. 

"Ok, Mr. Harper, what does the Red Hood look like?" 

"Like m'friend," Roy said, then burst into giggles. Dick sighed. 

"I know you're friends Mr. Harper, but I need to know what-" At that moment the door opened and a man walked in. He was tall with pitch black hair and incredible blue-green eyes. 

"Roy?" He called. 

"Jaybird!" Roy called back excitedly. Jaybird made his way over to the cell and tipped his black hat to Dick. 

"Sheriff," he greeted. 

"Hell, Mr-?" 

"Todd, Jason Todd. The barfly over there is my buddy. Do you mind if I pay his bail and get his drunk ass back to his wife and kid?" Jason asked. Dick was tempted to say yes, but the promise of catching the Red Hood was just too much to bear. 

"I'm sorry Mr. Todd, but this man has important information about the likeness of the outlaw known as the Red Hood. I can't let him leave until he tells me."

Jason sighed.

"What did I tell you, Roy?" He turned to Dick. "I'm sorry to waste your time, Sheriff, but Roy tells every fool from here to Metropolis that story. He saw a man in a red cowboy hat while he was drunk and has been insisting it's the Red Hood ever since, but I was sitting right there next to him, and I know it wasn't the Hood."

Dick's heart sank. The only solid lead he'd had in months and it was just ramblings from the town drunk. Dick nodded. 

"Ok, thank you Mr. Todd. I'll show you where you can pay your friends bail." 

Jason followed Dick to the front counter.

"His bail's going to be ten dollars," Dick said. Jason nodded, and rooted around in his pants. He pulled out ten dollars and handed them over, his hand lingered on Dick as it released the bills. 

"You know, you're a good man Sheriff. I'm glad it's you locking my friend up when he gets wasted, and not somebody on the take."

Dick supposed that was a complement. 

"Thank you," Dick said. Jason's eyes grew soft as he said it, and he smiled. 

"You're welcome," he said.

\---

The next day found Dick pinning wanted posters around the dusty barren town for Red Hood. He scuffed his boots in the dirt and pinned another poster to the hitching post. Red Hood; wanted dead or alive; forty thousand dollar reward. Privately Dick thought it was ridiculous. Forty thousand dollars for a man who had never hurt an innocent person before in his life. There were worse criminals who were wanted for less. Dick sighed to himself. Why couldn't he stop thinking about the Red Hood? He was nothing but trouble. 

Suddenly there was a scream. Dick whipped around. There, in the distance, was Slade Wilson, also known as Deathstroke. He was one of the deadliest men this side of Houston, and following right after him, firing shot after shot, was the Red Hood himself. Dick dove out of the way of a stray bullet and pulled out his pistol. Slade pulled his horse to a slow trot and turned quickly, firing at Red Hood. Dick ran in from the side. There was no question as to who was the villain there. Hood may be wanted, but Slade was a monster.

"Slade Wilson!" Dick shouted. "You're under arrest!" 

Dick's bullets distracted Slade enough for Red Hood to get a shot in. It hit Slade in the shoulder. He fell off the side of his horse and down into the dirt. Dick approached him slowly, gun held in front of him. He heard Red Hood dismount, the clanging of spurs followed him. 

"Slade Wilson you're under arrest for arson, robbery, gun running, and multiple counts of murder," Dick said. Slade wasn't moving. Upon closer inspection the bullet wound was actually a chest wound. Dick crouched down to feel for a pulse, and found himself with an arm around his throat, his gun knocked out of his hand. Slade turned him around so that they were both facing Red Hood, who had his gun up pointed right at them. Slade dug the barrel of his pistol into the side of Dick's head. 

"Careful Slade," Red Hood growled. "Killing the town sheriff is not the kind of publicity you want." 

"I suggest you be careful, Hood. You're the one who doesn't want blood on his hands. Don't want to start by getting such a pretty face killed, do you?" 

Red Hood's grip tightened on his gun. His eyes narrowed, and suddenly Dick thought they looked rather familiar. They were so bright, a unique blue-green that Dick knew he'd seen somewhere before. 

Jason. Jason Todd. The Red Hood was Jason Todd. Dick swallowed his reaction and locked eyes with Red Hood. Red Hood gave a barely there nod of confirmation, and Dick swung his head back. He felt a crunch as the back of his head connected with Slade's nose, and broke it. Slade let go of Dick in shock, which gave Red Hood the opportunity to shoot him. Before he could fire off a shot, however, Dick shouted, "Don't kill him!"

Red Hood recalculated at the lsat minute, and fired off two shots, one for each of Slade's knee caps. Slade sunk like a rock, screaming in pain. Dick stomped on his wrist and he let go of his gun. Dick pointed his own gun at Slade and said, once more, "Slade Wilson, you are under arrest." This time Slade didn't move. 

Once Slade was handcuffed, Dick turned around only to find Red Hood gone. The was fine though, because he knew Red Hood'd secret now. He knew his name.

\---

That night after locking Slade away in a holding cell to await state marshals, Dick tracked Jason Todd down to a house just outside of town. He knocked quickly and tried to decide what he would do. Even all these hours later he still wasn't sure. Jason had saved his life, technically Dick owed him. But Jason was also wanted, badly, and Dick was a lawman. It was his job to arrest Jason. 

The door opened to reveal one haggard looking Jason Todd. He was pale, sweaty and shirtless revealing a nick in his side that was seeping blood. Dick halted in his arrest and made a soft noise. 

"You didn't say you were shot," he said. 

"What?" Jason asked, blinking several times. Dick looked up from the wound. 

"I know you're Red Hood, Jason. Don't worry, I'm not here to arrest you." He wasn't he decided then and there. This handsome debonair outlaw with a heart of gold had saved Dick's life, and he just couldn't repay him by arresting him. Jason sighed and leaned heavily against the door frame. 

"Come on in," he said. Dick followed him into the small sparse house. There was a table, some chairs, and a bed all in one room, with a smaller room off to the side with a closed door. By the table was a small sort of kitchen. The bed sat on the opposite side of the room. There was a bottle of something strong smelling and amber, a small kit of medical supplies open on the table, and several bloody pieces of gauze resting on the table. A needle was threaded, but unused. Dick gathered that Jason had been about to stitch his own bullet wound, and Dick was not about to let that stand. 

"Let me help," he said. "A friend of mine was an army medic, he taught me how to stitch a bullet wound." 

Jason looked at him suspiciously, but shrugged and sat down heavily in one of the chairs. Dick knelt at his side and grabbed the needle. 

"Do you want something to drink?" He asked. Jason grabbed the bottle and took a big swig, then he closed his eyes and held on to the edge of the table in a white knuckled grip. Dick quickly and carefully stitched the wound closed. Alfred had spent months teaching him how to do this back when Dick had still lived in the manor. He was grateful for it now. 

When he was finished Dick put fresh gauze on the wound, and then wrapped a roll of fabric around Jason's waist to hold it to the wound. Jason sighed in relief and finally slouched in the chair. Dick sat down next to him.

"So you're not going to arrest me," Jason muttered, eyes still closed. 

"No," Dick said. "You saved my life, it wouldn't be right." 

Jason snorted, "I was right. You really are a good man. Or maybe a bad one. What does this make you?" 

Dick was silent for a moment. He really wasn't sure. A sheriff who wouldn't arrest an outlaw. A strange occurrence indeed, but not completely unheard of. It never ended well, but Dick found himself willing to risk it for Jason.  

"Flexible," Dick replied. Jason laughed, and Dick found himself joining in. Finally Jason opened his eyes, a smile on his face.

"You know, you're kind of beautiful," he said. Dick's eyes widened in shock.

"What?" 

"Oh come on, I'm pretty sure Jason Todd has been obvious about how he feels about you," Jason said. He was quiet for a moment. "Red Hood, too." 

Dick thought about it and found that he couldn't argue with Jason. Red Hood had just saved his life, and he spent his days keeping bad men out of Dick's town. It lessened his load, and made his job fairly boring, but it undeniably helped the town. Jason Todd was no different. Every time Dick saw him Jason said hi, or asked Dick about his day, and there was always something soft in his eyes. Something almost like love. 

"Maybe," Dick said. "Maybe I'm blind."

Jason grinned. "I think I can believe that." 

Dick looked down at him, tousled dark hair curling in the heat, blue-green eyes bright with pain. Sweat trickled down his neck toward his scar littered chest. Dick thought he was perfect. 

"You know," he said. "You're kind of beautiful too." Dick leaned down and planted a light kiss on Jason's lips. Jason snuck a hand through Dick's hair and pulled him down further, deepening the kiss. He pulled away to take a breath.

"I see there's more than one perk to having a cop on my payroll," Jason said, and Dick just laughed. 

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone wants to send me prompts in the comments, feel free!


End file.
